Harry Potter: Father Christmas's Apprentice
by sprinter1988
Summary: Seven year old Harry Potter sends a letter at Christmas time, a letter with the power to change his whole life for the better. A light-hearted (sort-of) festive story just for the holiday season, featuring none other than everyone's favourite white bearded man (not Dumbledore), his reindeer and his army of Elves. Oh, and Dobby, later. ENJOY!
1. The Letter

**Well, it's December again, so I thought I'd get into the Christmas spirit and roll out another little festive story. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Harry Potter: Father Christmas's Apprentice.**

Chapter 1: The Letter.

"Alright class," called out Mrs Peterson over the excited noise being generated by the group of twenty or so seven and eight year olds "if you all pass your letters to the front of the class, I'll collect them up and send them to Father Christmas as soon as school is finished."

The excited class each began passing their work to the students in front of them so that Mrs Peterson could collect them from the tables at the front.

It was the last day of school before the Christmas holidays began and, as a special treat, Mrs Peterson had allowed them to use the afternoon to pen letters to Father Christmas. While some might have considered this a waste of time, she knew that she could review the letters later and see how the various students were doing in their writing skills, especially spelling.

In every class, though, there is always going to be at least one child who did not enjoy taking part in a fun activity, and this class was of no exception.

Harry Potter usually enjoyed it somewhat whenever the teacher allowed them to have a little fun, but today was different for him. It was different for two reasons. The first was because he did not look forwards to Christmas. His relatives, with whom he lived, did celebrate Christmas but every year Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Cousin Dudley decided that they did not want their nephew intruding on this special holiday. Harry was excluded from Christmas at home, and so saw no reason to look forward to it.

The second reason that he had not enjoyed writing his letter to Father Christmas was that Harry had been forced to lie in it. There was no way that he could put what he really wanted in a letter to Father Christmas as it would only cause trouble, so instead he had added in a list of toys the existence of which he was dimly aware of. He had also listened carefully as the other boys in the class discussed loudly what they were putting in their own respective letters. Harry's rule was that if four or more boys were all including something in their letters then that something must be reasonably popular, meaning that Harry should add it to his own list as well.

Harry knew, of course, that even if Father Christmas did bring him anything on his list, he would never see it. Either Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia would see the present for him under the tree, would tear the label off and then give it to Dudley, who would have wrecked it within a week.

The bell rang and Mrs Peterson wished the class a Merry Christmas before allowing them to leave, must to their delight.

Outside the school the layer of snow that had fallen a few days ago had now mostly been reduced to a watery slush, but that did not stop the children from playing about in it, laughing in joy or screaming after being hit by an icy handful of slush.

Harry did not have any friends at the school and so did not join in the playful antics of the others. He had learned long ago that he was not welcome to join in on the fun.

He made his way down the steps at the front of St. Grogory's Primary School and was just minding his own business as he walked along the front drive when something big and heavy collided with him, knocking him face down into a heap of wet slush.

He heard the hated voice of his Cousin Dudley call out loudly "Oops. Didn't see you there, freak!"

Harry looked up to see his guffawing cousin walk off, accompanied by his best friend Piers Polkiss, who was also laughing loudly.

He got to his feet, feeling a pain in his left knee as he did so, and brushed as much of the slush off of himself as he could. Harry pulled up the left leg of his far-too-large trousers and saw that in his fall he had badly grazed his knee on the tarmac. Blood was now oozing from the wound.

Harry covered his leg up again and limped off down the path. He arrived at the gates of the school just in time to see Aunt Petunia drive off with Dudley and Piers in the back. That was just his luck. He was going to have to walk home in the cold, wearing clothes that were soaking wet, and limping due to a bleeding knee. And just to top it all off, Piers was coming to tea.

Brilliant!

* * *

It took Harry over forty minutes to stagger home, by which time he was certain that, not only would he be spending the holidays miserable and alone, he would have a massive cold to go with it.

Harry opened the front door and Number Four, Privet Drive and stepped inside. How was he greeted? By Aunt Petunia shrieking at him for dripping on the mat inside the door, that's how.

She swatted him around the head as she shouted at him before grabbing him forcibly by the elbow and all but throwing him into the cupboard under the stairs. All of this was, of course, watched by a delighted Dudley and Piers.

"You wait in there until your Uncle gets home!" Petunia shouted at him "He'll sort you out, you little freak!"

With that, she slammed the door, sealing Harry in darkness. He heard the bolt on the outside of the door get slammed into its locked position before hearing Aunt Petunia's footsteps as she stormed away, muttering about how she was going to clean the mat.

Harry took the opportunity to slide of his wet school clothes and get into something warm and dry. All of his clothes were formerly owned by Dudley and everything was much too big for him, but Harry never complained. At least he had clothes!

When he was changed he reached into his school bag and pulled out a book. He then fished under his bed for the torch that he had hidden then and switched it on. He sat down on his small bed, bundled himself up in his thin and worn blanket and tried to take his mind off of things by reading from a collection of Christmas stories for young children.

* * *

About two hours later, Harry was deeply immersed in a story about a little orphan reindeer who was adopted by Father Christmas when he heard a sound that sent a fearful chill down his spine.

He could only just make it out, but there was no mistaking it. He had trained himself to listen out for it over the years that he had lived with the Dursley family. It was the sound of a car pulling into their driveway, and that could mean only one thing.

Uncle Vernon was home.

Hurriedly Harry shoved his book back into his school bag and buried his torch underneath his thin mattress. Then sat and listened.

Uncle Vernon came in and was greeted by his wife and son. Then he heard the man's footsteps coming his way and he held his breath.

But they passed by.

Harry listened as the family, plus Piers, had their dinner. He listened as his Aunt and Uncle watched the evening news on the television whilst Dudley and Piers created a lot of noise upstairs.

Harry heard the doorbell ring and the door open. He heard his Aunt and Mrs Polkiss making forced small-talk whilst Piers got ready to leave.

Piers left. The door was shut. Footsteps came down the hall. Harry's cupboard door was wrenched open and he was dragged out by the hair on the back of his head.

"So," snarled Uncle Vernon, his beady black eyes dancing with anger as his meaty fist pulled Harry's head around to look at him "make a mess on your Aunt's clean mat will you, you ungrateful little freak? Get out here and clean it up!"

Harry was thrown towards the front door where he landed in heap. He looked up to see Uncle Vernon's bulky form almost completely blocking the way to the kitchen. Horse-faced Aunt Petunia was watching on from the doorway that led to the living room, and Dudley was sitting on the stairs, his face alight with joy at Harry's suffering.

Uncle Vernon threw his a small hand brush that only just missed his head. Harry dutifully picked it up and turned to the mat inside the front door.

Now that the water had dried there was absolutely nothing wrong with the mat, but Harry knew that such a thing did not matter to the Dursleys, so he began scrubbing.

"I'll be back in an hour, boy," growled Uncle Vernon, and he and Aunt Petunia vanished into the sitting room, Uncle Vernon to read the financial section of the newspaper and Aunt Petunia to watch her soap operas.

Harry did not dare stop scrubbing. After five minutes, Dudley got bored and skulked up to his room, but Harry still did not dare stop. It would be just his luck that if he did, Dudley would suddenly reappear and shout very loudly to his parents that Harry had stopped.

An hour passed before Harry became aware of Uncle Vernon's approaching footsteps. Once again the obese man grabbed Harry by the hair on the back of his head and pulled him up.

"Now let that be a lesson to you, you little freak!" the man barked, spittle flying from his mouth.

He dragged Harry back towards his cupboard and shoved him violently inside, snarling "You'll be getting no dinner tonight, boy. Now stay in there and keep quiet!"

And with that he slammed the cupboard door shut, once again plunging Harry into darkness.

Harry curled up into a ball as far away from the door as possible and began to cry quietly. He really did wish that he had a nicer family. Eventually he fell asleep

* * *

A few hours later, he was awoken by his Aunt and Uncle heading upstairs. It was then that Harry noticed something. A faint band of light was visible just at the edge of the cupboard door. The light vanished when Uncle Vernon switched off the landing light upstairs, but Harry knew that his not been a trick played on him by his eyes.

He approached the door and nudged it.

It opened.

Joy filled him. In his anger, Uncle Vernon had slammed the door shut, but completely forgotten to lock it afterwards. Harry was free to leave his cupboard. He was free to sneak into the kitchen and find something to sate his hunger.

He didn't dare go now though. He had to wait, at least an hour, to allow his Aunt and Uncle time to fall asleep. He pulled the door shut before pulling out his torch and book once again.

Eventually he plucked up his courage to sneak out of his cupboard and into the kitchen where, as quietly as possible, he opened the fridge door.

The Dursleys had so much food stuffed into this fridge that it was a wonder that they would ever notice anything missing. But from experience Harry knew that if he wasn't careful about what he took, his Aunt would know.

He took some meat, but only a few scraps, and a few lettuce leaves. He took a chocolate bar from right at the back and a single, cold roast potato. He took out the milk bottle and took a couple of gulps, though not enough to be noticed. He knew better than to use a cup or glass. He took a drink from a large carton of pure orange juice, and a few mouthfuls from a jug of water.

Always not enough to be noticed.

He closed the fridge and scuttled over to the counter. From the fruit bowl he stole a couple of grapes, but did not dare touch an apple.

He hurried back to his cupboard and buried himself under his blanket in order to savour his stolen horde.

As he ate he reflected upon how his life was. About how uncaring his relatives were and how miserable they made him feel.

He thought of the orphaned reindeer in his book, and then thought of school and the letter he had written to Father Christmas.

And the letter he had wanted to write.

He paused. _The letter he had wanted to write…_

Did he dare? His cupboard door was unlocked and he could certainly get to a post box under the cover of darkness, but did he really want to?

Yes, he did.

He pulled open his school bag and pulled out a pencil and a piece of paper.

Fifteen minutes later he pushed open his cupboard door once again and peered out into the hall. There was no one about.

He stepped out into the hall and made his way towards the front door, all the while listening out for any sign that someone else in the house might be awake.

His tatty old trainers adorned his feet and he had pulled on an old and worn coat.

The front door was locked from the inside, but the key was still in it. He undid the lock and opened the door as quietly as possible. He stepped outside into the freezing night air and pulled the door shut behind him.

Nobody on Privet Drive was awake to see a small boy making his way down the Dursleys' driveway and onto the pavement. In his hand was clutched a piece of paper, folded in half, with an address scribbled on one side.

_To Father Christmas_

_The North Pole_

By the light of several street lamps Harry made his way down to the corner where there sat a red post box. It was quite high and he had to stand on his tip-toes to manage it, but he slid his letter through the slot at the top and, in the dead quiet of the night, heard it land on top of the pile of Christmas cards that were inside, awaiting delivery.

As Harry made his way back to Number Four, a few flakes of snow began to fall from the dark sky above. He pushed open the door again and slipped inside. He locked the door quietly behind him and crept back to his cupboard.

There he took of his worn out old coat and his tatty old trainers before climbing in underneath his blanket and closing his eyes, wondering if his letter would help.

* * *

Down on the corner at the end of Privet Drive, the post box stood quietly and looking perfectly normal.

But no post box was what most people would call normal. There was a magic spell on every post box in the world, a spell that was there for one reason only. Every time a letter was put into a letter box, the spell checked the name on it, looking for one name in particular.

Depending on where you were in the world, that name could any one of a wide variety, be it Father Christmas, Santa Claus, St Nicholas, Pére Noël, Papá Noel, Babbo Natale, Télapó, or even Kris Kringle. But each and every one of those names referred to one person only - a jolly old man who lived in the frozen north and liked to ride about on a sleigh pulled by reindeer.

Harry's letter had been addressed to Father Christmas, and the spell on the post box detected it.

There was a faint pop than none nearby heard, and a small figure appeared, standing at about three feet in height, about the same as Harry.

He was an Elf, and a very special kind. He worked for Father Christmas, and was one of the many Elves whose job it was to collect letters addressed to the man himself.

With a wave of his hand the Elf sent a bit of Elfin magic at the letter box, and Harry's letter slipped out of the slot in the top. The Elf caught the letter and disappeared without a sound, heading back to Father Christmas's workshop at the North Pole.

Nobody on that street saw him, apart from a slightly bemused cat who immediately put him out of her mind and trotted off back home so slide in through the cat-flap of Number Eight and curl up near the radiator in the kitchen.

Harry Potter didn't know it, but that letter would soon change his life.

* * *

**So, how was that? I know that I really should not be starting another story, but its Christmas and I usually do some kind of themed story around this time of year. Readers of my other stories, please bear with me. I have updates for each of them in the works, but my muse is currently fixated on this. The next chapter of my Pokémon story should be up before the weekend, with updates for my other two Harry Potter stories coming after that.**

**This one will be updated as and when.**

**I know the chapter is a little short, but it's a short, light-hearted (eventually) holiday story, not a fully fledged novel with half a dozen sub-plots.**


	2. Twas the Night Before Christmas

**Well there certainly was a good response to the first chapter of this thing, so I must be on to something good!**

**Enjoy Chapter 2!**

* * *

**Harry Potter: Father Christmas's Apprentice**

Chapter 2: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas…

It was just after lunch on Christmas Eve, and Harry was standing on a stool in the kitchen, leaning over the sink to wash up the dishes from the Dursley family's recent meal.

The Dursleys themselves had plonked themselves down in the front room as soon as their meal was done in order to watch the television. The black and white film that they were watching was called "_It's a Wonderful Life"_ – a sentiment that Harry did not particularly agree with.

He picked up the last glass and put it into the washing up bowl. As he cleaned it, he looked up to stare out of the kitchen window. On the night he had delivered his letter, it had begun to snow. By the following morning there had been a layer of snow at least a foot deep covering everything outside.

As was typical throughout Britain, every County Council in the country, along with the Highways Agency had been completely unprepared for this downfall of snow, leading to what the newsreaders liked to refer to as "Snow Chaos."

Over the next few days more snow had fallen, bringing most of the country to a stand-still. For Harry this wasn't good news. The snow outside was so deep that Aunt Petunia would not let Dudley spend any time outside playing in the stuff along with his friends, and Uncle Vernon's drill making company had been forced to shut down due to the fact that deliveries could not be made either to the company's workshops from their suppliers or from the company to their buyers.

Essentially this meant that Uncle Vernon's Christmas holiday had started a whole week earlier than planned, and more Uncle Vernon was never a good thing. Not for Harry, anyway. Combining this with Dudley being miserable about not being allowed outside meant that so far Harry's Christmas Holiday had been rather rotten so far, with no sign of things getting any better in the immediate future.

Harry was broken from his reverie by a bark of "Are you done yet, boy?" from Uncle Vernon.

He looked down at the glass in the bowl and saw that it was clean. He set it down on the draining board and called back "Yes Uncle Vernon."

The man came into the kitchen and leaned over the collection of crockery on the draining board in order to inspect it.

Finally he said "Very well. You're Aunt with put it all away later. Now then, it's Christmas Eve, and you know what that means."

Harry hung his head sadly and replied "Yes Uncle Vernon."

"Good. Now go."

Harry dried his hands in a nearby tea towel before stepping down from the stool and walking out of the kitchen. He went straight to his cupboard and got in.

Uncle Vernon leaned in and said "Now you remain here until we let you out on Boxing Day. And we hadn't better hear a peep out of you until then or else. Understand?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," replied Harry, before the door shut and he was plunged into darkness once again. This time he did hear the metal bolt slide across, locking him in.

This was Christmas as Harry knew it. Every year after lunch on Christmas Eve Harry was sent to the cupboard under the stairs and was locked in until the evening of Boxing Day, when they let him out to use the toilet and get something to eat before they all went to bed.

Harry had never seen a Christmas dinner, far less eaten one. He could smell it though. Every year Aunt Petunia would begin cooking some part of the Christmas dinner the evening before, usually when Harry was just starting to get hungry.

Then all through Christmas Day he would be tortured by the smell of the food and the sounds of happiness that the Holiday brought about.

Harry had never received a Christmas present, as far as he could remember. He never even got a card. He had never pulled a Christmas cracker, or worn one of those paper hats. He had never had a sandwich made up of leftover turkey, and he had never sampled a mince pie.

No one had ever wished Harry a Merry Christmas, and he was quite glad that they did not, for it would only make him feel worse.

* * *

Hours later Harry heard the Dursleys making their way up to bed. He listened to their voices and realised that they were discussing the possibility of Uncle Vernon's sister, Aunt Marge, coming around for the day after Boxing Day if the roads cleared up.

Harry closed his eyes and prayed that the drivers of the gritting lorries had all been on holiday. A visit from Aunt Marge was the last thing he needed.

He heard Aunt Petunia tell Dudley to switch his computer off and go to bed.

"You know that Father Christmas won't come and deliver his presents to children who are awake." she told him affectionately.

Harry's mood became worse. He hoped Dudley got a stocking full of coal instead of toys.

He began to toy with the idea of staying awake all night. After all, if Father Christmas did not come to houses with children who were awake, then by staying awake Harry would keep the bearded gift-giver away, and wouldn't that just spoil Dudley's holiday?

"_Yeah,"_ Harry thought to himself "_that's what I'll do. I'll stay awake all night and Father Christmas won't come and bring presents for Dudley. After all that he does to me throughout the year, this'll pay him back!"_

You can't argue with the logic of a seven year old!

He tried to follow through on his plan, he really did. He stayed sitting up with his torch lit up and his book in his lap for as long as he could, but slowly the words became unfocused and his eyes began to sting.

"_Maybe if I just rest my eyes for a bit…"_ he thought, closing up his book and setting it aside.

His head landed on his thin pillow and the torch rolled away from his hand, still alight.

* * *

The grandfather clock that stood in the hallway chimed softly, signalling that it was midnight.

In the cupboard under the stairs, Harry Potter was disturbed from his sleep by the noise. He rolled onto his side and felt his glasses shift on his face.

He reached up to take them off when he heard something else. Another sound entirely.

Harry froze and listened. It sounded like bells. Sleigh bells!

Harry's heart was in his throat. It couldn't be, could it?

There was a soft _thwump_ sound as something landed on the snow covered roof of the house. Harry listened intently.

Was that the soft crunching of feet on snow?

Suddenly there was a noise from the front room, something that almost sounded like someone sliding out of the chimney and out onto the carpet.

Harry pushed his thin blanket away and placed his hand against the cupboard door.

It was locked securely.

Were those footsteps he could here? Footsteps, coming his way!

Harry drew his hand away from the door and pulled his blanket around himself.

The sound of footsteps stopped. Stopped right outside the cupboard door!

He heard the bolt on the door slide across slowly. The door loosened and Harry held his breath.

For the first time he suddenly realised that his torch was still switched on and by its light he saw a hand and by its light he saw a hand come through the narrow gap between the side of the door and the door frame.

It was wearing a red glove.

The hand grasped the door and eased it open slowly.

And Harry Potter found himself looking into the kind face of Father Christmas for the first time in his life.

"Well, my goodness," said the old man "isn't this a sorry sight?"

Harry thought that he ought to say something, but found that his voice did not appear to want to work.

"I received you letter, Harry," Father Christmas continued "and I wanted to talk about it with you. Is that okay?"

Harry swallowed nervously before nodding his head.

"Very well," said Father Christmas "Come on in to the front room then."

Harry crawled out of the cupboard and followed him into the front room where a light had been switched on.

By that light Harry could not see the man far more clearly. He was exactly as you would expect Father Christmas to look like – a man in his early seventies with a large white beard and a round belly. He was dressed in a bright red coat with a white fur trim, and a red hat with a white bobble. He had white-cuffed red trousers, and black boots along with a black belt that had a shiny golden buckle.

Father Christmas sat himself down in Uncle Vernon's favourite armchair and studied Harry carefully for a moment before beginning to talk "So, your letter to me contained some interesting things, Harry. Do you really want to have a new family?"

Harry found his voice and relied "More than anything, sir."

"Can you tell me why?"

Harry remained quiet for a moment, thinking it over. He knew full well why he wanted a new family, but he had never told anyone those reasons before. Did he want to reveal it all now?

Finally he decided that he did, and so told Father Christmas all about it. He told him all about being locked into the cupboard under the stairs for Christmas, and about how he only got to eat what the Dursleys left, and how often he was sent to bed without food.

He told all about how he was made to cook and clean, and about how everything that went wrong in the house was somehow his fault even when he had nothing to do with it.

"They call me a freak," Harry finished finally.

"I see." said Father Christmas "Well Harry, it is certainly possible for me to help in finding a new family for you."

"Really?" asked Harry, a hopeful tone in his voice for the first time in… well, ever.

"Yes. People usually think that I am nothing more than a toy maker, but you'd be surprised just how often I get requests from children who are in situations like yours. Over the years I have made contacts with the kinds of people. People who could find someone like you a nicer home."

"So you will help me?"

Father Christmas smiled at him and replied "I will. Harry, how would you like to come and live with me at the North Pole?"

Harry mouth fell open and he stammered "C-come and l-live with you?"

Father Christmas nodded his head and replied "Yes, Harry. My wife, Mother Christmas, read your letter and insisted that we make you this offer. She thinks that you may have what it takes to become a Father Christmas yourself, one day."

"I'd be Father Christmas?" asked Harry.

"One day, with the proper training." Father Christmas leaned forwards in his seat and added "There will always be a Father Christmas, but we don't live forever. One day I'll be too old to continue to do this job and I will need someone to take over. Does it sound like something that you could do?"

Harry thought about it for a moment before giving a nod of his head, replying "I think so."

Father Christmas chuckled and said "Good boy. Now, go wrap up warm. It can get pretty cold on that sleigh."

Harry nodded and hurried off to his cupboard in order to fish through his things to find some suitable clothes. After changing out of his pyjamas into his chosen clothes, he shoved all of his other remaining possessions into his school bag and then made his way back into the living room.

Father Christmas looked him up and down with a critical eye before stating "That won't we enough Harry. Where are your gloves?"

"I don't have any." replied Harry.

"Well what about a hat? And you'll want a scarf."

Harry shook his head.

"I see. Well, I'm sure I've got some things on the sleigh that you could borrow. It always pays to have a few spares handy. Now, come on. Let's get you out of here."

He walked over to the fire place and stooped low to step inside. When he stood again, his head and shoulders were up the chimney. He held out his gloved hand and Harry took it.

All of a sudden there was a whoosh and Father Christmas was being pulled up the chimney and Harry, who was still clutching his hand, was pulled up after him.

They came out of the other end of the chimney and Father Christmas hopped agilely down onto the roof before turning to help Harry down.

Once again Harry's heart caught in his throat. There, standing on the roof as though it was perfectly normal, were nine majestic looking reindeer, and behind them there sat the famous red sleigh, packed to bursting with toys and gifts for people all over the world.

"Now, you wait here, Harry," said Father Christmas "I'm going back down to leave your family that which they deserve."

"Coal?" Harry asked, hopefully.

Father Christmas tapped himself on the nose and climbed back onto the chimney.

Harry watched with interest, wondering how on earth the man managed to squeeze through the chimney pot.

It was strange to see it, but when Father Christmas stood up on top of the chimney pot, did a little jump and then vanished straight down. It looked to Harry like he was squeezed into being really long and thin, allowing him to shoot down the chimney with ease.

It must have been magic. Father Christmas was obviously magical, otherwise how else could he have gotten himself and Harry up out of the chimney moments before?

Harry turned away from the chimney and approached the reindeer.

"Hello," he said to the first one "I'm Harry. You're Rudolph, aren't you?"

In response to the question, the reindeer raised his head proudly, allowing Harry to get a good look at this red nose.

Harry reached out and scratched Rudolph's fur, which the reindeer seemed to like.

Rudolph's fur was a mostly dark grey in colour, with white fur on his neck and underside, and all the others were the same.

"Well, it looks like you've made one friend already," said Father Christmas, whom Harry had not noticed coming back to the roof.

"Yeah," said Harry "Rudolph likes being scratched."

Father Christmas chuckled and replied "They all do, Harry. Right, we'd best be off. This was the last house I had to visit in Little Whinging, but there are plenty more that I need to get to before we can head home."

They made their way along the line of reindeer and came to the sleigh. They got in and Father Christmas reached beneath the seat and pulled out a large bag.

"The wife likes to make sure I've got all I could need," he explained, pulling open the bag. From within he took a pair of red gloves and a red hat, just like the ones that he was currently wearing, and a long red scarf.

He handed these things to Harry, who put them on and was quite surprised when both of the gloves and the hat actually shrank down to fit him. He then wound the scarf around his neck and shoulders.

"You ready?" asked Father Christmas.

"Ready." replied Harry, eagerly.

Father Christmas gave him a smile before turning to face forwards. He cleared his throat before whistling loudly and calling out to each reindeer by name.

"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen! Lead on, Rudolph!"

As their name was called, each reindeer reared up in eagerness. Rudolph's nose shone brightly with a magical light and as one they began to move off.

For a moment Harry thought that when they came to the end of the roof they would all fall off, but of course just the opposite happened. Rudolph reached the edge of the roof and kept going, his legs working in mid-air. Then Donner and Blitzen followed, and Cupid and Comet, Prancer and Vixen, then Dasher and Dancer, and then, at last, the sleigh.

Harry peered over the side and looked down at the world below. Not only were they flying, but they were also climbing higher and higher.

"How is this even possible?" Harry found himself having to ask, and beside him Father Christmas chuckled before replying "Why my dear boy, it's magic of course!"

* * *

That night, for the first time that he could remember, Harry left Little Whinging behind him.

Father Christmas explained to him that, as he went around the world according to their time-zone, he had already visited Australia and its surrounding islands, all of Asia and most of Europe and Africa, but he still had most of England and some of France left to do, along with Spain, Portugal and Western Africa, before they headed off to the Americas.

Harry had a wonderful time. Not only did he get to ride in Father Christmas's sleigh, but he also got to see so many places that he either never thought he would see, or had never known about.

He saw London and Liverpool, Glasgow and Edinburgh, Cardiff, Belfast and Dublin. In Paris, France they did a loop around the Eiffel Tower, just for the fun of it and in Spain they soared by the Royal Palace of Madrid, and Almudena Cathedral. They saw Lisbon of Portugal and flew south over Gibraltar and on to Morocco, Algeria, Mauritania and Mali, Ghana and Liberia, Guinea and Senegal.

Then they went out to sea, travelling through the Canary Islands and the Azores, then north to Iceland and Greenland before flying for miles to the south to reach the east coast of Brazil.

They did not stop at every house, or indeed every town. There were people who did not celebrate Christmas, so Father Christmas did not deliver to them. As he explained to Harry, it would, after all, be rude to try and force them to celebrate Christmas, which Harry thought was fair.

The trip took a long time, but there was plenty to see, and Father Christmas seemed to have an endless supply of flasks filled with hot drinks. Harry marvelled at the sight of the Statue of Liberty in New York, and the statue of Christ the Redeemer, which overlooked Rio de Janeiro.

They saw the Bahamas and the Florida Everglades. They visited Ottawa in Canada and then down to Washington DC, where they actually landed on the roof of the White House and Harry wondered what it would be like to swim in the fountain!

They saw Argentina and Peru, Chile and Mexico. Harry was enjoyed seeing the city of Dallas in Texas, and was awed by the bright lights of Las Vegas, Nevada.

All of this sight-seeing did take a long time tough and soon the lack of sleep began to catch up with Harry. He got a big thrill out of seeing the Hollywood sign over Los Angeles, California, but soon after fell asleep.

Father Christmas made his last few deliveries, mainly in Alaska, and then turned the reindeer towards home…

* * *

**A/N: So there you go, Chapter 2! I tried researching a few representations of Father Christmas throughout the world in order to see if I could give him any friends, but what I found left a bad taste. Suffice to say, I doubt I'll be including Zwarte Piet in this! I think I'll stick to elves and reindeer.**

**Anyway, I need a name for Father Christmas's wife in this. For obvious reasons he'll be Nicholas, but please don't go suggesting Perenelle – I've seen that done before, and I don't really want to go with Mary or with the obvious joke of Carol.**


	3. Christmas Morning

**Well, it seems that I am one a winner with this story! Thanks to everyone who took the time to review. I got a few good names for Mother Christmas and have chosen one from that list. Thanks to everyone who took the time to make suggestions, but a special thanks to rmiser1994, Kinsfire, Dragonsrule18, Kieran, eyann85, Enelya Fefalas and "Guest" for giving me the perfect name! That said, a couple of other suggestions have been taken to name other characters in the story.**

**Anyway, on with the show!**

* * *

**Harry Potter: Father Christmas's Apprentice**

Chapter 3: Christmas Morning

A little girl sat on her bed, wrapped in her favourite blanket, watching out of the large, circular window for the moment that she was waiting for. Next to her, curled up on the bed was one of their two pet cats. This one was all white and fluffy while the other was striped with black and brown fur, with a white underside, and had short hair. The second cat was currently asleep at the foot of the other bed in the room, which was unoccupied.

On the floor of the room there were three husky dogs, just a few of the admittedly rather large collection of huskies that the family owned. The three huskies were in a ring surrounding the large and beautifully decorated Christmas tree which stood in the centre of the room.

The room was mostly made of wood. The walls were made of thick and sturdy logs, the floor was made out of solid planks of hardwood, the beds were wooden and the window frame was wooden.

In fact, other than the glass in the window, the only structural feature in the room not made of wood was the stone hearth and chimney that stood off to one side, inside which there stood a wood burner, with a fire that was crackling away merrily and providing the room with a feeling of warmth and a soothing glow.

In addition to the big Christmas tree there were many other decorations around the room, from tinsel and home-made paper chains to snow globes and big red stockings which hung from the mantel piece.

Belle was the name of the girl who was still awake, and she was eagerly awaiting the return of her father, who had been off travelling far and wide as a part of his work.

She had been waiting eagerly for a long time now, and she was about to be rewarded. The sky was just beginning to turn from black to purple, signifying the imminent arrival of the sun, when she saw it – a faint, but distinct glimmer of a red light.

"That's Rudolph's nose!" she exclaimed before jumping down from the bed and running towards the door, shouting loudly "He's home! Mama, Daddy's home!"

* * *

The reindeer banked to the left and made towards the ground. As they made to land in the snow, some of the faster huskies were already there to greet them.

Rudolph was the first to touch down, followed by the rest who landed in their pairs, and finally the sleigh landed with a soft thud that shook Harry awake.

The reindeer slowed to a stop and Harry looked around. Snow covered almost everything around them in a thick blanket. There were stables, and what looked like a large workshop, and a large house made all out of logs.

Lights were on in the house and could be seen through the windows.

Harry got quite a surprise when one of the huskies jumped straight into the sleigh and greeted Father Christmas excitedly. Father Christmas greeted the dog enthusiastically and introduced it to Harry, telling him its name was Buster, which Harry thought was a nice name for a dog.

Harry reached up to scratch the dog behind the ear, which it seemed to like. There were a lot of huskies now, all running around and jumping excitedly. The reindeer didn't seem to mind them.

"You have a lot of dogs," Harry observed.

"Yes," replied Father Christmas "there are twelve in total. They do come in useful, and my wife is a bit of a fan of this particular breed."

"Daddy!"

Harry turned in his seat to see that the door to the house had opened up and a little girl was running as fast as she could through the thick snow in order to get to them.

Father Christmas got out of the sleigh and scooped the first little girl up into his arms, causing her to giggle happily.

"And what are you up at this hour, my little Belle?" he asked them.

"Waiting for you, of course." replied the girl.

Father Christmas turned around so that he was once again facing Harry, who was still sitting in the sleigh.

"Harry, I would like you to my daughter, Belle. Belle this is Harry."

"Hello," said the girl brightly.

"Hi," replied Harry, suddenly feeling nervous. He hadn't realised that Father Christmas already had a child of his own.

"He's so small," observed Belle, somewhat tactlessly "I thought you said that he was the same age as me."

Father Christmas chuckled and replied "He is the same age as you, Belle. He's just a little small for his age because his old family didn't feel him enough."

"Oh," said Belle "Well, I hope you gave them what they deserved."

"Oh, I certainly did," replied the bearded man "Harry, why don't you follow us inside?"

Harry nodded and slid down from the sleigh before following Father Christmas and his auburn-haired daughter towards the house.

* * *

Somewhere to the south, the Dursley residence was a clamour of noise.

"He's been!" shouted Dudley as he burst excitedly into his parents' bedroom. He got up onto the bed and began jumping up and down, waking his parents "He's been! Mum! Dad! Wake up! Father Christmas has been!"

Petunia Dursley sat up and grabbed a hold of her over excited son and pulled him in for a hug and a kiss "Merry Christmas Dudley!"

"Merry Christmas Mum!" the boy replied enthusiastically before bouncing over to his father "Merry Christmas, Dad!"

Vernon Dursley chuckled and ruffled his son's hair affectionately "Merry Christmas, you little tyke. Now, how about we go downstairs and see what Father Christmas brought you for Christmas, shall we?"

Dudley sprang off the bed and dashed madly out through the bedroom door.

Christmas morning always saw him running about faster than he ever did all throughout the rest of the year.

Vernon and Petunia got out of bed, pulled on their dressing gowns and followed their son downstairs.

Dudley raced through the sitting room and tore his Christmas stocking away from the mantelpiece. His parents arrived just in time to see him tip the stocking upside down and sent coal and soot everywhere.

Petunia nearly fainted at the sight of so much coal and soot covering her nice, clean, beige carpet as Dudley burst into tears.

Vernon, meanwhile, had gone very red in the face. He stomped over to the fireplace and pulled his own Christmas stocking from the mantel. He reached inside and pulled out a handful of coal. Petunia's was also full of the stuff.

Now a shade of purple that would make a plum jealous, Vernon grabbed the nearest present from under the tree and tore open the wrapping paper. According to the box beneath, this should have been the new VHS video player that they had purchased for Dudley to have in his bedroom. He ripped open one edge of the box and yet more coal and soot fell to the floor.

Petunia collapsed into a chair, hyperventilating. Ignoring her and his wailing son, Vernon threw the box to the floor as his mind tried to decide what could possibly be behind this. There was only one conclusion that his mind would come to.

"FREAK!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs and stomped off towards the hallway, ignoring his wife's gasp as he trod some of the soot into the carpet and left a trail of footprints in his wake.

The bolt of the door to the cupboard under the stairs was locked securely, but that was not going to stop Vernon Dursley when he was in a rage!

He grasped the door handle with a meaty fist and pulled backwards. The lock broke and the hinges bent. He threw back the door and went to lunge for his nephew, only to find that the boy wasn't there.

Not only that, the boy's school bag was gone as well, and all of his clothes. In fact, all that remained to suggest that there had ever been anyone living in the cupboard under the stairs was a tatty old mattress that should have been thrown out years before.

On top of that tatty old mattress there was a Christmas wreath. And in the centre of that wreath was a letter. In fact, it was a copy of the letter that Harry had sent to Father Christmas.

At the bottom, in green ink, there was a short note that had been added later. It simply read "_Someone has been naughty!"_

Vernon Dursley made a strange choking sound, followed by a loud gurgle.

Then he fell to the floor.

Twenty minutes later, the residents of every other house on Privet Drive were out on the street watching an event that was likely to keep the local rumour mill working well into the New Year – two paramedics loading a very pale-looking Vernon Dursley into the back of an ambulance whilst the man's wife screamed at them for not getting there quicker and the Dursley boy threw a temper-tantrum on the driveway.

Fortunately for the Dursley family, it turned out o not have been a heart attack, but what medical people liked to refer to as a "heart attack like event." Quite how that was supposed to make anyone feel any better only made sense to medical people, but there you go.

Fortunately for the readers of this story, once Vernon Dursley was out of hospital, he gave up his job at Gunning's due to it being too stressful, the family sold their home on Privet Drive and moved to small, rural village on the coast of Wales and never again celebrated the Christmas holiday. They did not even exchange presents, which means that they will play no further part in this otherwise happy story.

* * *

Back at the North Pole, Harry stepped over the threshold of the house and looked around.

It looked wonderful, all tastefully decorated for Christmas season.

Harry glanced back over his shoulder to get one last look at the reindeer, and saw that they were being led away by a group of small people who had long, pointy ears and were dressed all in green.

Christmas Elves.

A door off to the side opened up and a woman entered the room. She had auburn hair which was tied up in a bun with a red bow. On her nose there sat a pair of glasses made of a thin black frame, and behind them Harry saw the kindest pair of brown eyes that he had ever seen.

She was wearing a red dress that came down past her knees, over which she was wearing a white pinafore which was ruffled about each shoulder.

Before her she was carrying a large tray, upon which there sat four steaming mugs.

"Harry," said Father Christmas "this is my wife, Noelle."

"Um, hello," said Harry nervously.

"Hello to you, Harry," she replied with a warm smile "You must be cold after your long trip. Would you like some hot chocolate?"

Harry had heard of hot chocolate before, but he had never been allowed to try some, until he had sampled some on the sleigh ride. Mother Christmas held out the tray to him and he took one of the mugs.

It tasted like heaven, far better than that which had come out of the flask on the sleigh.

"It's good," commented Harry in a small voice.

Father Christmas chuckled and said to his daughter "Belle, why don't you show Harry upstairs? I'm sure that he would like to get in a few hours' sleep before breakfast."

"Ok, Daddy" said Belle, before grabbing Harry by his free hand and leading him away, her own mug of hot chocolate held firmly in her other hand.

"He's got Lily's eyes," observed Noelle as they watched their daughter lead the new addition to their family upstairs.

"And James's hair," added Father Christmas with a chuckle.

"So, you think he has what it takes to follow in your shoes?"

"I know he has."

"And what of Belle?"

"I'm sure that everything will work out for the best. They will be a good match."

"I hope you're right."

* * *

Upstairs, Harry was being shown around by a very excited girl who seemed to be keen to tell him everything there was to know about her bedroom, be it toy or furniture.

"Harry, this is Tiger," said Belle, holding up the stripy cat "we called him that because of his stripes."

"And that is Snowy," she added, gesturing to the other cat in the room, who was sitting on a bed, grooming its white and fluffy fur "you can probably guess why she's called that."

"You have lots of animals here," Harry observed.

"Yep," said Belle "twelve Husky dogs, two cats and over thirty reindeer."

"Thirty?" asked Harry "There were only nine pulling the sleigh."

"There are lots more out in the stables," said Belle "We have a whole herd."

"Oh," said Harry, before deciding to change the subject "You're mummy seems nice."

"Yeah, she is," replied Belle, happily "I'm in training so I can learn to take over from her one day. I'll be the new Mother Christmas."

"Oh yeah?" asked Harry "Well, your dad said he was going to teach me to me the new Father Christmas."

Belle nodded her head and replied "He said that's why they were going to adopt you. Everyone who has ever been Father Christmas has been in my family, my dad, my granddad, my great granddad… but after I was born, mama couldn't have any more children, and they needed a boy so he could take over as Father Christmas when my dad retires."

"So, if Father Christmas brings the presents, what does Mother Christmas do?" asked Harry.

"Oh, all sorts of things," said Belle, "She's in charge of the elves who do all the making of treats, like sweets, chocolates and cookies, and she's in charge of the elves who make clothes, like jumpers and hats and socks. Daddy, on the other hand, is in charge of the elves that make toys, like trains, dolls and teddy bears, and the elves that make musical instruments, like drums and trumpets."

"Who looks after the reindeer?" asked Harry.

"My Auntie Carol," replied Belle "She's my dad's sister and she looks after the Huskies as well. She really likes animals and she has elves that help her as well."

"Is she married?" asked Harry.

Belle shook her head and said "No. Because we live up here where it's secret she hasn't met anyone. She could leave to find someone, but she likes her job too much."

The pair kept on taking until well after the sun had come up. Eventually Noelle came upstairs to call them for breakfast.

"Didn't you two get any more sleep?" she asked.

"No, mama," replied Belle "we were talking about all the things that happen here."

"Well, that's very nice dear, but now it is time for breakfast."

Belle shot to her feet "Come on Harry! Mama makes lovely breakfasts.

As he got to his feet, Harry thought '_well, if Mother Christmas is as good at making breakfast as she is at making hot chocolate, then this might just be the best breakfast ever!'_

* * *

**Sorry for the delay, but I just could not get this chapter to work. Originally there were going to be three daughters here but that made things too cluttered so I cut them. Then Auntie Carol appeared out of nowhere, even after I said I wasn't going to use the obvious name of Carol Christmas. Oh well! I think I can make some use out of the character, if the story progresses that far.**

**Oh and in case you are wondering, Harry being trained to become Father Christmas and Belle being trained to become Mother Christmas does imply exactly what you are thinking it does. They just don't realise it yet!**


End file.
